Surely we have fallen upon evil times! Last night we
received intelligence of the very severe battle at or near New Market, between
Breckenridge and Seigle; the latter was repulsed, and is retreating, pursued by
Breckenridge. The Cadets asked to be permitted to take the front; they were
allowed to do so. (Later, this is doubtful, but General B. says, “They behaved
splendidly!”) Five of them were killed, and forty-five wounded, some of them
very badly. For a while we did not know but that Frank or Preston Cocke or
William Lewis were among the killed; but when the list came, we could not find
their names! Thank God for sparing them! But they are pushing the enemy
on; another battle will probably ensue, and then their turn may come. We
received a Richmond paper, the first for ten days, and find that a fight has
taken place near Sister's; thirty killed; and there she is, alone on her
plantation; her three only sons in battle. How do we ever live through such
scenes as are daily coming to our notice! The reserve is ordered out all over
the State. Matters are touching the point of desperation. All seems to depend
upon the final throw. We will soon have attained “the zenith point of hope,” or
“the nadir of despair.”
Father and J. do not begin to conceive what we go
through here. How should they? Thank God they do not!
SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and
Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 180-1
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